Chase
by Kooshee
Summary: Oneshot. Endgame spoilers alluded to, but not stated outright. Lavellan visits Solas after having some Qunari drink with the Iron Bull...(f!Lavellan/Solas) AU fluff, but notice it's rated M.


Obviously….spoilers ahead.

Since the scene where Lavellan drank with Iron Bull, I always wondered what would happen if she went to see Solas drunk….so…here! :D

But yea…I have major, major, COLOSSAL Solas sads. We shall get through this together, shall we? I sure hope so…until then…fluffs!

This is an excerpt of a larger Solas narrative I am working on that I altered into a oneshot. It's obviously AU in that Solas and Lavellan do have a sexual relationship that began after their physical journey to the Fade when Solas tells her he loves her for the first time.

I don't know…maybe we will find out later, but I fail to see Solas's hesitance at a physical relationship with her – maybe he's worried that she will see him for who he is if they are intimate, or is worried about her getting too attached to him before he needs to go his "walk in solitude forever" as he completes his mission.

Reddit thread theorizing on the ending (not my post, but awesome): r/dragonage/comments/2nlohc/theory_about_what_happened_and_whats_going_on/

But anyways, I don't think affair between them would be entirely uncharacteristic – In my story, he does leave her after the Temple of Mythal, but it's an extension of her trying to discuss their future together after they defeat Corypheus. This is where then he is finally reminded of their respective duties and breaks it off so that they can fully commit themselves to their tasks.

But yea…I love the stories I have seen with Solas having wolfy traits…and what better wolfy trait than to play "tag-like" games with his love?

Plus if there's snoo-snoo involved. : )

Enjoy, loves. I left her name as generic "Lavellan"

* * *

It was late evening, yet Skyhold buzzed with activity.

They had fought and killed a dragon that day.

The feat itself was extraordinary, one that no one had managed since the Hero of Fereldan liberated the Temple of Sacred Ashes from "Andraste Reborn."

While the keep was lively with the faux-celebration, Solas decided to honor the occasion in a less vulgar way by reading a few chapters of said Hero's adventure. The most recent Blight was a source of great interest to him.

And now only two Blights remain…

He sighed his pleasure having finally escaped the commotion and gotten a chance to sit down and enjoy his book. So there he was – lounging languidly on the couch as he explored the story about Hero of Fereldan through the inadequate medium. It was no matter – his mind fleshed the details from his travels in the Fade. The spirits had pressed heavily against the Veil in the Temple of Sacred Ashes, and the memory of the dragon's defeat was still fresh in those who watched the mortals at the now destroyed temple.

The Hero of Fereldan…another Dalish elf as the savior of the world. And _still_ the elves were treated as servants and slaves, worse than second-rate citizens. Anger simmered under his skin as he thought about the injustice. Yes..even now, the world condemned Lavellan even as she struggled to save them all. It disgusted him.

He looked up sharply at the loud _BLAM_ of a door smacking the wall as it was flung open. It came from near his platform, and he waited for his visitor to come into view, curious and slightly wary.

As she staggered into the room, she had to clutch the ladder of his platform to steady herself, giggling all the while: she was drunk. He sighed, disapproving, and feigned disinterest as she swayed against the ladder, but his eyes watched her over the top of the pages.

When she was satisfied she was steady, she looked up for the first time and surveyed the room, grinning broadly as she caught sight of him, even though he was pretending to ignore her. The corners of his eyes crinkled in a smile from her joy at seeing him. She looked back to the ladder, her anchor from the drink, then back to him, unsure. She hesitated before she released the ladder, but managed to wobble to his desk successfully, grinning proudly.

He watched, amused, as she tried to collect herself, pulling herself up straight with as much dignity as possible before she approached him on the couch. She stood in front of him, hands behind her back, acting for all the world like shy little girl. He did not look at her, but turned a page of his book absently, lazily. Uncaring.

Unsatisfied with his assumed indifference, she wriggled up into the circle of his arms, rich red hair and pointed ears displacing his book from sight as she snuggled against his chest. The feeling of her warm, soft body pressed against him worked against his resolve and he surrendered to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. She sighed happily, content with her victory for his attention. He grinned in spite of himself.

"Had a little too much, Inquisitor?" He asked innocently, formally even, effectively masking his disapproval.

"Nahhh….it was just the right amount." She hiccupped and snuggled closer, nosing his neck affectionately. "The only thing better than this feeling is the one I get from touching _you_, mister man….hic…elf" she giggled outrageously as her arms wrapped themselves around his neck, maximizing their interface with each other.

He was no stranger to drink, debauchery, and parties, yet his mind nagged at him – as their illustrious leader, her indulging in the unproductive habit with Corypheus undefeated gave him pause. His discontent with her dissipated the longer he held her in his arms: she had melted against him, more relaxed than he remembered her being. Even as they slept in their tent together, her back pressed against his chest, she would always fidget with worry, often crying out in pain as the anchor pulsed under her flesh. In their nightly quests into the Fade, he guided her to the wonders of his world, enjoying the sharing and the distraction it provided for both of them from the daily horrors that they faced.

It allowed him to justify his selfish want of her, that he was helping her. It wasn't because he was enraptured by her.

He sourly conceded that she deserved a break – a chance to forget the position that she was forced into, his Inquisitor. His fault. He would humor her, tolerant, even if he disapproved. He owed her that much.

Besides, he can't say he didn't enjoy his lap filled with Lavellan.

"What was the occasion?" he asked, though he had seen her with the Qunari at the tavern with the other members of the Inner Circle. Her Tevinter friend was, as usual, never far from her – playing cards with Varric, Blackwall, and few of the recruits. The flamboyant mage's protestations and wails as he continued to lose grew more and more comic as Varric smirked, his pile of coins steadily increasing. The dwarf had caught sight of Solas as he passed, waving him over.

"Come on, Chuckles – Blackwall says that you might actually be able to give me a challenge!" he was leaning back in his chair, hands behind his head, unconcerned as he issued the challenge.

Solas, tempted at a chance to show them all up, shook his head.

"I will leave you to enjoy your winnings for a time, Varric. I would not want to embarrass you in front of your friends." Varric roared with laughter and bowed his head.

"I would've been done had he joined." He heard Blackwall laugh as he left, "That smarmy bald fucker cleaned me clear out." Solas smirked, remembering.

He felt her grin against his neck and was returned to the present.

"I wasn't going to…but Iron Bull….gave me something….Qunari. Strong stuff." She hiccupped again and giggled. She looked at him seriously as her inebriation allowed her, knowing his disdain for the Qunari came as an extension of the restrictions the Qun imposed, and explained defensively, "I mean, we HAD just killed a dragon…and he needed a chance to unwind…after…after what happened with his men." Slight sadness crept into her voice, but she hiccupped, which caused her to start laughing again.

He considered her words and then he nodded, if a bit sullenly. "I am glad that you care for our…party members even if I do not agree that they are worth your time, emm'asha." He kissed her check sweetly and immensely enjoyed her giggle of delight at the action.

And he _was_ proud of her, drunkenness nonwithstanding – it was her compassion for all persons he had come to admire, unable to easily overcome his own predjudices. Her drunkenness was a direct result of her trying to support her men and comrades.

He felt slight shame at judging her so when she stumbled in to see him. He pulled her closer, enjoying her comforting heat.

She buried her face in his chest and inhaled deeply. She spoke quietly, hushed. "You smell like…safe. Like outside and man. And parchment." She giggled and his heart softened at her words. "But no campfire, needs more campfire." He grinned in spite of himself. Yes, fire was a good smell.

He was distracted as a hand fell from his neck and sought his chest, running her hands over the delicate fabric suggestively. He felt himself becoming aroused and shifted her in his lap to relieve the pressure.

"Well…what brings you here in your drunken stupor, vhenan?" he teased. "were you hoping I can help you wobble up the many stairs to your room?" He smirked, remembering her previous totter over to him on the couch.

She laughed raucously and her grip around his neck tightened. "That's exactly what I was hoping," she whispered in a seductive, primal voice, causing him to shudder in anticipation as gooseflesh raced down his body. She straightened in his lap and shifted her legs so that she was straddling him on the couch, her magnificent green eyes sparkling wickedly.

He felt blood rush to his groin as she pressed her hips into his suggestively, grinding against him as she traced kisses along his jaw. He groaned as she gently bit the soft flesh under his jaw, and wrapped his arms around her behind, pulling her hips against his now hard member. As he leaned up to kiss her, she pulled back, grinning mischeviously. She stood, well…fell backwards and his hands shot out to steady her. She clung to him, laughing, and took his hand. He allowed himself to be led along by the hand as she began to lead him toward her chambers, amused at the insistence of his beautiful, fierce creature that loved him so.

"Emm'asha…" he said doubtfully as she insisted. She turned around and gave him a hard, long look that practically screamed "stop being so noble and come give me a good fucking, you fool." His member flexed in anticipation, and his desire won out over caution at being seen. After all, he was doing no more wrong than _usual_ by bedding his love, regardless of her state. His book could wait.

Mercifully, the Great Hall was empty as she almost dragged him by the hand to her chambers.

He heard an enthusiastic wolf whistle and whirled abruptly to see, to his immense horror, that Varric was at his table, feet propped up, watching them. He was smoking a pipe and grinning impishly at the two elves. A large stack of coins was on the table, the results of his tavern conquests, the columns gleaming against the flickering firelight. He must have called it a night and come to put his winnings away.

When Solas met his eyes, Varric winked raucously and blew out a large puff of smoke. Solas was infuriated to feel heat rising in his face as he flushed crimson. She just laughed and continued on, unabashed.

He DID have to help her wobble up the stairs, which she found absolutely hilarious. While initially annoyed that she wasn't trying harder, he was finding it difficult to be upset at her when she was so obviously having a good time, her face flushed with drink and laughter as she relied on his help to navigate the many steps.

He also enjoyed the kisses she insisted upon every few feet. She'd kiss him, on the lips, ears, neck, or hand periodically, teasing him until he shoved her against the wall of her chambers and ground himself against her, her whimpering in pleasure as he took her neck in his mouth hungrily. He was thrilled as how responsive she was to his touch, her senses amplified by drink. She was also more vocal than usual, her whimpers of pleasure driving his arousal higher. Then she'd squirm free, giggling, and try to take more steps.

When they reached the main level, she ran to the doors of the balcony and threw them open, running out to the ledge. Terrified she'd overshoot and fall over the balcony in her drunkenness, her ran after her, only to find the balcony empty. Confused, he looked back at the room to see her, knees bent as if she was about to run. Her eyes beckoned, mischievous. She wobbled a little, drink altering her sense of balance.

Still confused, he approached her, only for her to spring away when he came within arm's reach. She ran a few feet away and assumed the same position, begging him to chase her. He grinned with understanding.

Delighted by her playfulness, he sauntered casually over to her, pouncing at the last second. She squealed and barely managed to roll out of his grasp as she wiggled just out of arm's reach. But he was too fast for her, pouncing again, and managed to pin her arms against the floor on the soft carpet.

He attacked her neck with his mouth, kissing it urgently as she moaned and rocked against him from below. He felt her arms relax in his grip and he freed them, allowing them to cling to his back and pull him close into a deep kiss. He crushed his mouth against hers.

And then she was gone. _How_ had she moved that fast? She was _drunk_. He growled and spun around, searching for her.

Thus it was a game of chase around her chambers, Lavellan giggling as she fled, dodging up and around him, a wisp of a creature that laughed at him as she easily danced out of reach, stumbling only occasionally as her intoxication betrayed her. It was usually then that he caught her, growling as he pinned her to the wall or the floor and kissed her fiercely, hungrily, rubbing himself against her as she moaned with pleasure and half heartedly squirmed to free herself.

Eventually he could stand the chase no more. His mate led him on a merry game of cat-and-mouse, but he was the mighty hunter, and he would claim his prize. His female. His love. His mate.

When he caught her next, his lips found her mouth instead of her neck and he kissed her sweetly, gently. Sensing his shift in mood, she surrendered control, relaxing as she sighed in pleasure. She opened her mouth in invitation. His tongue probed into her mouth gently, causing her to tremble beneath him. When he broke away, he pulled back so that he could gaze at her face. He brought his hand up and stroked her soft cheek with the back of his forefinger.

She was angular face was so beautiful, yet there was a softness to it that belied her fiery nature. Her rich red hair was a tangle behind her on the floor, but it was those ever glorious green eyes that captivated his exclusive attention. They sparkled, those eyes full of love and mischief. He grinned and rubbed the tip of his nose against her's.

"Ar lath ma, vhenan." He almost purred.

"I want you, love, please." Her eyes begged. He smiled softly, and captured her mouth in his. He didn't need asked again.

Without removing his lips, his hands sought the hem of her shirt and removed it from her breeches with a light tug. When the shirt was free, he pulled it over her head as she leaned forward, not needing to undo the laces, as she was so tiny. As usual, she surrendered to his touch eagerly, eyes watching his face as he looked at her body.

Her small, perfect breasts needed no breastband, and so her chest was laid bare before him, the skin marked with various scars and burns. He grasped a small mound in his hands, teasing the perked nipple as she sighed happily.

His fingers traced across her breast, down her exposed belly, and began to undo the laces of her breeches. His deft fingers worked quickly, and he slid his hand beneath her smallclothes to find her wet heat.

A heavy groan tore from his lips as he felt her, even more engorged and wet than the first time he had made her his in the Fade. He ran his finger across her opening, teasing her with a wet finger as she moaned and clung to him, fingers mussing the fabric of his shirt, wanting more. Happy to oblige, he inserted a finger into her, stroking her gently, teasingly slow. She growled in frustration and pressed her hips up into his hand. He removed a finger and found her clitoris, rubbing the small button gently.

A sharp intake breath was followed by a cry of joy as he felt her body tense and shiver against him, mouth gaped open in pleasure as her eyes closed. He watched her moan and wriggle under his hands as he teased the tiny bundle of nerves, enjoying her noises of pleasure and her face open with unmasked bliss as she rocked slightly against his hand.

He lowered his forehead and pressed it gently to hers. She turned instantly to him, her mouth seeking his as she pulled him to her.

He wrapped his arms around her, gathering her against his chest as he sat back on his heels. She came with him as he sat back, her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist. He clutched her to him, kissing the hollow at the base of her throat eagerly as his hands moved down to grasp her bottom.

He easily lifted her as he stood, not even bothering to remove his mouth from the soft flesh of her throat that was laid bare to him. He carried her over to the bed, where he let gravity bring them to the mattress.

"You are wearing too many clothes." She groaned out. "That's not…fair." She suppressed the hiccup and almost clawed at the front of his shirt eagerly, fingers fumbling uncharacteristically with the laces. She frowned.

Amused, Solas gently removed her hands, kissing both of her palms gently before he sat back and undid his shirt, the laces falling away easily. Their eyes never left each other's until his shirt came free and he let it fall to the floor behind him. Her eyes went to his chest, and her hands reached out and integrated themselves into his chest hair, tugging gently as he rumbled a noise of satisfaction and closed his eyes. She grinned broadly, knowing he loved to have his chest played with.

She reminded him of her desire by arching herself into him, fingers curling in the black hair. His eyes snapped open as he was reminded of the wanting women beneath him, and he growled as her resumed his exploration of her half naked body with his mouth. He pulled at her breeches, and she lifted her hips to facilitate their removal. He flung them across the room and hastily began to undo his own pants, fingers still deft despite his distraction and insistent need.

When he freed himself, she took him in her hands and he groaned as she rubbed him gently at first, then insistently. He was constantly amazed at how her skilled her tiny hands were, fumbling with laces with drink moments before, but still knowing exactly how he liked to be stroked.

He batted her hands away and prowled up her body, trailing kisses along her stomach, her sternum, her breasts, her neck, and finally her lips. He nuzzled her cheek while he slipped a practiced finger into her, ensuring she was ready for him. She was.

As he entered her, she gasped and clutched at him, one hand reaching under his arm and around his chest while the other grasped his neck, both drawing him close to her. He moved against her, their chests flush against each other as his hips rocked against her. She moaned and rocked against him, spurning him to move faster.

He withdrew suddenly and grabbed her hips, flipping her over onto her tummy. She squawked in surprise, starting to protest as she rose onto her hands and knees, but he had already nudged her legs apart with his own and entered her again before she could get out a word.

The word on her lips morphed into a cry of surprise and pleasure at the new position, her head bowed so that her hair fell over her face and obscured her from him. His hands grasped her hips and pulled her against him with each thrust.

And so he made love to her, slowly at first so that she became accustomed to him this way, and then conceded to his body's want to speed his pace at this natural position, riding her. Taking his mate.

She turned around and looked at him, her waterfall of red curls over one shoulder oscillating with each of his thrusts. Her eyes radiated love and trust, her mouth gaping.

When he felt the pleasure begin to build, he placed a hand between her shoulderblades, encouraging her gently to the bed. She allowed him to press her torso against the soft covers, her bum still in the air, hips in his hands. She moaned at the deeper penetration, her cries building and her body tightening as she began to grind against him, encouraging her rising pleasure. He was pounding into her now, grinding his hips against her as he fought his own orgasm, unsatisfied unless she reached hers first.

He removed a hand from her hip and reached around, finding her clitoris easily. She bucked against him with a happy cry at his touch as he drove her to her climax.

He felt her orgasm, her body shuddering as it pulsed in waves. Her walls clamped around him rhythmically, and he allowed himself to spill himself into her, spent.

He rubbed her back lovingly, enjoying the feel of being inside her like this as they remained joined, panting and sweaty...primal and, oh so right.

It took a moment for him to catch his breath and he withdrew from her. He went to fetch her a handkerchief with which to clean herself and returned with some water as well, not envying the headache she would have in the morning. He smirked at her surprised face when she drained the glass he gave her in one long, satisfying drink.

"You aren't familiar with the vulgarities of the masses, are you?" he asked her as he sat next to her on the bed, his hands reaching out to brush away a few slightly damp curls from her face.

"What?" her foggy brain was confused, not understanding him.

He clarified, "You aren't used to indulging in drink, are you?" she shook her head in response and took the refilled glass he offered her. She drank half of it and set the cup on her nightstand. She crawled up to her spot on the bed and flopped down onto her back, still above the covers, breathing heavily. She gazed at him, glowing, and beckoned with a finger.

He obliged and lay down beside her. She snuggled up against him, burying her face in his chest and breathed his scent deeply, sighing in contentment. He wrapped an arm around her, drawing her closer to him.

"You are always showing me such new and wonderful things." She said it so sincerely and softly that he laughed out loud, kissing her forehead.

"I am glad to share them with you, emm'asha." He said earnestly. _I just hope you won't despise me for it, later…_

He pushed the itching thoughts away, refusing to give into them with his satisfied female pressed against him so.

"Everything's all…" she started,... "spinny" she finished lamely, unable to find a more adequate word. He shook his head slightly, and tightened his arms around her briefly in a wordless response.

After a while, he felt her body relax and her breathing alter as the drink and exhaustion overtook her, bringing her into sleep's embrace.

She awoke as he started to disentangle himself from her grasp, but was only able to utter a vague noise of protestation as she pulled him tighter to her. He shushed her.

"I will be back." Her grip didn't loosen. "Shhhh…I need to relieve myself." She released him reluctantly then, her arm dropping limply to the bed as he scooted backwards from underneath it.

When he returned, he was amused to she was in the exact same position, lying on her side with her hand extended over where his form was a few minutes before. He finagled the covers out from under her and crawled in beside her before covering them both in the soft blankets. She snuggled against him in her sleep and he smiled.

When the dawn came, he'd have to leave her before the castle roused and he could sneak away with only Varric being the wiser. But until then, he was content to envelop her in his arms. He kissed her and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to claim him.

* * *

Pardon my update - I wished to correct my typos. :)


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